


Goodbyes

by I_am_sherlocked13



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:26:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_sherlocked13/pseuds/I_am_sherlocked13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock jumps off of St. Bart's John must say his final goodbye</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> I did not write this, my friend wrote it to break my heart. I posted it here on her request since she doesn't have an account of her own. I'm sure she'd appreciate some feed back :)

“911. What’s your emergency?”  
“I’m on Main Street address 4166. My friends…please.”  
“Sir, calm down, we’re sending an ambulance. What’s the problem?”  
“My friend…he jumped off a building. He needs help.”  
“Is he alive.”  
“He appears to be breathing. His leg is broken and as far as I can tell there are six cracked ribs. I can tell he has some sort of concussion. His skull may be dented…”  
“Are you a doctor?”  
“Yes, my name is John Watson. He needs help.”  
“An ambulance is on its way Mr. Watson; try to keep him breathing. Who is it?” I hang up.  
“Come on Sherlock. Please wake up. It’s going to be all right.”

The waiting room of the London hospital was the worst place for me to be. It was just a man and his thoughts, no comfort, no reassurance. “Goodbye John.” I watched Sherlock jump off the building over and over again, watched him crumple on the pavement, watched myself be unable to save him. I put my throbbing head in my hands. If you die Sherlock I will never forgive myself.  
The bell on the door to the intensive care section tinkles, signaling a doctor entering. I don’t look up. For the past hour when the bell rung I was anxious and my hopes went soaring, only to be crushed by the brutality of reality. It was always someone else.  
“Mr. Watson?” I look up to see a partially balding man in a surgery gown, holding a clipboard. His face looks grim and distressed. I have seen the look so many times before, the look one sees when you’re about to lose a patient.  
“Yes.” I stand up from my seat, trying to show composure. I can see his eyes cling to be trembling hand, which I shove in my pocket.  
“This way please.” My heart hammers against my ribcage, beats in my ears, and time slows down. The room is down the hallway behind the last door and with every step I take my heart jerks back and forth in emotion.  
The room is large and sunny, too large for the one bed that is position by the window. It is too surreal, too perfect. There are no machines, no IVs hooked up to the bed.  
“I’m sorry.” The man shakes his head. “He has too much damage to the body functioning part of his brain. He has enough time left to say goodbye.” He motions sadly to the bed and leaves the room. There is a small chair next to the bed, which I take.  
I always thought of Sherlock as such a strong person, so unstoppable, so unbreakable. Yet I see him broken before my eyes and I feel so alone.  
His hand hangs over the edge of the bed. I can see the gauze wrapped around the sidewalk burn that covered his palm. I take his hand, and hold onto it, like I can hold on to his life.  
“John.” I see him open his eyes, blue as the sea and the sky, but faded in pain and the life that is slipping away. His had tightens on mine. I look away, trying to show him that I am as strong as he is, that I am will be all right, but the tears come.  
“Sherlock.” I hear my voice crack. “I’m right here. We’re going to make it. You’re okay. Your-” He shakes his head.  
“I don’t like lies. Please don’t lie to me John.”  
“I don’t want this to happen.” Tears sting my skin and drip onto my sweater.  
“I always saw death as something that happened to someone else. I’d cheated it so many times; I’d taken it for granted. It’s so fragile and I saw mine and strong. And now…” His voice trails off.  
“Don’t say that. You’re not going to die.” My shoulders shake as I speak. I don’t want him to see me so weak.  
“I don’t want you to hurt. I don’t want to leave you alone.”  
“I…I can’t.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to compose myself. These are his last moments.  
“I don’t want to die.”  
“You won’t. I will do everything I can. Don’t leave me Sherlock.” It sounds pathetic and it hurts to say the words. But then, everything hurts now.  
He gasps so sharply and suddenly I grab his arm tight to hold on to everything I love. “Goodbye John.”  
“Sherlock.” My vision is so blurry with tears I can’t see straight. “ I love you.”  
“I…love…” His eyes are closing and fading. “I…” I let go of his hand and hug him, rocking in my seat. “I…” He can’t speak any longer and he exhales for the last time. Then, everything is over.

The doctors give me a list of therapists that I can see for a sudden loss. It’s almost a joke. I threw the list into the fire that burns in the apartment, along with a small cardboard box.  
I finger the syringe in my hand with care, turning it in the light, thinking of everything that would end if I inject myself. I checked my phone and found a message from Sherlock. I listened to it and made my decision.  
The syringe enters my skin with precision and a pinch. I feel the poison coursing through veins with small jerking stabs. I have thirty seconds and I know what to do with them.  
“Dear John. The doctors let me leave you a message because they wanted me to be able to say goodbye in the way I want to. There are so many things I wish I had done, wish I had said, wish I had experienced.  
I don’t want to hurt you John any more than I already have. I just want to say goodbye. If I had the time I would say, ‘John Watson, you are the most amazing person I have ever met in my life. I love your quirks, your sweaters, your clever little ways of doing things. I know that sometimes it may seem that I am far away, but the only place I belong is with you.  
If I could say goodbye I would…” I scream as a wave of pain rips through my body and I fall off my chair. Every inch of my body is shaking and I can’t hear Sherlock’s message any longer.  
“Goodbye Sherlock.” I whisper. “I love you.” Everything goes black, then white and the pain is gone. Though my eyes are still closed I see a tall man in a black overcoat with black curly hair.  
“I love you too John.”


End file.
